


See None, Hear None

by timehopper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Sensory Deprivation, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 14:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: McCree gets more than he expected when Sombra ties him to a chair, blindfolds him, and takes away his hearing.





	See None, Hear None

**Author's Note:**

> A "request" for Kinktober Day 3: Sensory Deprivation.
> 
> Hooo boy I love this kink

It’s dark. Dark and silent.

McCree can’t move. He’s bound to the chair he sits on, wrists to the back and ankles to the legs. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn he’d been kidnapped and was being held somewhere against his will. But no, he knows exactly where he is. He knows exactly who blindfolded him and put the noise-cancelling earphones on. Hell, she’s probably in the room right now, watching him squirm like the devil she is.

McCree tries to shift in his seat. It’s not uncomfortable - Sombra was very insistent about making sure he wouldn’t get sore - but he needs to move, to feel something, or the low, steady beating of his heart in his ears is gonna drive him crazy.  He had been dismissive of Sombra’s gentleness at the time, but he’s grateful for it now. He’s been sitting here for much longer than expected.

He still doesn’t know for sure if Sombra’s in the room now, let alone if she had been even an hour ago. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a little louder than usual. He can’t really hear himself. “You gonna keep me here all night?”

Predictably, there’s no response. Not one he can hear, anyway. After five minutes of nothing, McCree sighs and slumps in his seat, resigning himself to another two or three hours of the same.

But that isn’t what he gets.

A hand traces up his thigh, sending a shiver all throughout his body like little electric jolts shooting from within him. McCree had been expecting things to feel good, but he hadn’t expected them to be so _intense_. Sombra had barely even touched him.

“Shit.” McCree gasps as Sombra drags her hand further up, tracing along his pelvis and up to his stomach. Her fingers catch in his treasure trail, carding through it affectionately. McCree feels like he’s slowly being lit on fire.

“Babe,” he says, choking the words out. “Sombra, fuck, that feels--”

A hand covers his mouth. McCree snaps his lips shut, knowing that this is her way of telling him to be quiet. He’s pretty damn sure he’s not gonna get anywhere by fighting - not this time - so he settles down and does what she wants.

Apparently satisfied, Sombra lifts her hand away and replaces it with her lips. McCree groans into the kiss, lips tingling as Sombra massages them open. She makes no move to thrust her tongue into his mouth: she moves slowly and gently, almost inviting him in. McCree’s tongue pokes against her bottom lip, silently asking for permission. When Sombra doesn’t protest, McCree sighs into the kiss again and licks into her mouth. He can taste her coconut lip balm. It drives him wild.

Sombra breaks away first. McCree takes a deep breath, trying to ease how lightheaded he feels. He gets little reprieve, however; Sombra kisses a path from his mouth to his neck, each kiss feather-light and teasing on his skin, leaving him wanting more. He’s so sensitive he can feel her eyelashes dragging against his skin. They tickle. He squirms.

Sombra mouths something against his neck. She puts a firm hand on his thigh, pressing down to try and hold him in place. Is she trying to tell him to stop moving? McCree doesn’t know for sure, but he does anyway, settling back down against the chair. His chest heaves as Sombra continues to tease him, trailing her fingers up and down his sides. Her nails are long, but her touch is light enough that she doesn’t scratch him. Part of McCree is grateful for it. Part of him wants more.

McCree licks his lips. Sombra takes his face in both hands. He can feel her lean in close and mouth something against his lips. It’s hard to tell what she’s saying, but McCree can make a pretty good guess.

“Please,” he whispers, and that must be the magic word, because Sombra kisses him deeply and crawls on top of him. She straddles him, one knee on either side of McCree’s thighs, and reaches down between them with one hand. She brushes McCree’s cock with a knuckle, and McCree jolts into the contact, but Sombra doesn’t touch him yet. He can feel her wrist and hand moving, though.

She must be touching herself. McCree groans against Sombra’s lips. He feels a puff of breath against his skin - laughter, he’s sure.

She pulls her hand away and finally, finally wraps her fingers around his cock. They’re wet - he was right. McCree’s mouth falls open on a moan and he breaks free of Sombra’s lips, throwing his head back in pleasure. Sombra strokes him slowly, her grip firm but not nearly tight enough the get him off. McCree is almost completely hard now - he has been for a while - and he wonders if Sombra’s going to go all the way and let him inside her or if she's just going to jerk him off.

He isn’t sure he minds either way.

Sombra tightens her hold on him and starts stroking faster. McCree’s hips twitch and jerk in response, and although she tries to hold him in place at first, Sombra quickly realizes she’s fighting a losing battle, so she repositions herself just slightly so that now she’s sitting on his lap. Every one of McCree’s movements grinds against her crotch, and he can feel her hips roll to meet him. She’s soaking wet, too, getting her juices all over McCree’s leg. The cowboy grins, smug and high off how much Sombra's enjoying herself. “You’re really gettin’ off to this, ain’tcha?”

McCree doesn’t hear Sombra’s response, if there even is one. Instead, he feels her lift her hand away from his cock. It’s like a taut string has been cut when she does: McCree had been getting close, and now that there’s nothing pushing him faster and faster and toward the edge of orgasm, he goes slack, whining for more.

He gets that ‘more’ almost immediately. Sombra shifts in his lap again and presses herself against McCree’s chest. He can feel her breasts squishing against him as she moves. He longs to touch them. He _aches_ to. But he can’t: he’s bound and blinded and deaf and entirely at her mercy.

She sinks onto him.

McCree moans out loud as Sombra takes him in, inch by inch. She moves deliberately slowly, dragging out McCree’s pleasure as long as she can. “F-fucking tease,” McCree grits out.

He can’t hear her, but the vibrations he can feel against his chest tell McCree Sombra must have laughed… or maybe spoken. He can hear it now: “Big talk for someone who can’t fight back,” maybe, or “I can stop any time, is that want you want?”

She takes him in just past the head and lifts her hips again. She’s off McCree almost completely now; he can just barely feel the tip of his cock nudging against Sombra’s labia. And she holds herself there, too, the damn minx, clearly waiting for something.

McCree groans. “I’m sorry,” he whines. “I’ll be good. Just please don’t leave me hangin’ anymore.”

He feels another puff of air against his cheek. Sombra slides back down onto him, quickly this time, taking him in all the way to the base in one smooth motion. It takes everything McCree has in him not to fuck up into the tight, wet heat of Sombra's pussy, but he manages to keep still so she can make the first move.

She does, but she starts off slowly, rocking her hips back and forth a few times just to adjust having McCree inside her. He’s not small by any definition if the word, and although Sombra is used to him by now, sometimes she just needs a moment to really get used to the stretch.

As she rocks her hips back and forth, she grinds down on McCree, somehow managing to take him in even deeper. Sombra pauses for a moment when he’s completely inside her, chest heaving as she catches her breath. She’s so tight around him now - she must have found a good position.

Her legs are tense by McCree’s sides. He smiles to himself; she’d never admit it, but Sombra must have wanted this just as much as he did. McCree wants to gloat so, so badly, but doesn’t dare, not with the risk that Sombra might stop again. And he’d promised to be good, besides.

She starts moving again, rolling her hips fluidly. Up and down, back and forth, riding McCree smoothly and easily as if she’d been doing it all her life. She feels amazing on him, clenching and unclenching with every movement. It’s usually so easy for McCree to lose himself in the steady rhythm of their lovemaking, but today, it’s totally different. Everything he feels is amplified tenfold. And since he can't see or hear her, McCree is hyper focused on Sombra, on every inch of smooth skin that slides against his own, of every fleck of moisture that leaks from her pussy; he clings to the feel of her around his cock as she grinds down on it, of her nails digging into his shoulders as she gets more and more tense, more and more tight.

Sombra bites into his neck. McCree cries out at the sudden shock of it sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. He bucks his hips, unable to keep still any longer, and he feels Sombra moan against him. She must like that. It encourages her to move faster, anyway, and soon she’s practically bouncing on his cock, each downward thrust more powerful than the last. Her movements are starting to get unsteady and erratic. She must be getting close.

“Fuck!” McCree bites his lip. He’s getting close too, but he doesn’t dare let himself go before Sombra. She’ll be pissed if he does. So he just has to hold out a little longer, just long enough for her to come. But she feels so good on him, and with nothing else to focus on but how fucking amazing Sombra is, how well she’s riding him, McCree doesn’t know if he can do it.

He somehow does manage to, but just barely. Sombra clamps down around McCree with one more downward thrust, and he whole body goes tense. A hot wet rush spurts out from between Sombra’s legs, and that does it: the sensation of wetness and knowing that Sombra made herself squirt just by riding him sends McCree careening off the edge. He comes half a second after Sombra, her spasming muscles coaxing him and pushing him through his orgasm.

He slumps against the chair when he’s finished, ears ringing and vision still black as before. Sombra is completely still against him but for the heaving of her chest and the continued twitching and spasming of her Kegel muscles. It's sticky and uncomfortable and perfect. McCree can't even imagine doing this with anyone else.

Eventually, Sombra peels herself off of McCree. She stands up and he slips out of her with a small groan. He's still oversensitive; even that little bit of sensation is enough to nearly set him off again.

Once she's up, Sombra finally removes his blindfold. It takes a moment for McCree to adjust to the light in the room, but when he does he's greeted with the beautiful sight of Sombra's smile. He smiles back, fond and happy and more in love than he’s ever been in his life.

She unites him gingerly. McCree flexes his wrists to get the blood flowing back into them; while he does, Sombra reaches out and delicately removes the headphones. McCree is immediately assaulted by the sounds of Sombra’s computer buzzing and the humming of the air conditioner in their apartment. He cringes and clamps his hands over his ears, trying to suppress the white noise for that brief moment it hurts him. It doesn't bother him for long, but Sombra strokes his hair and kisses his face to try to soothe and distract him anyway. It works.

“Son of a gun,” McCree says when he finally pulls his hands away from his ears. “Didn't think it'd hit that hard.”

“I had a feeling it might,” Sombra says. But she smirks and boops his nose, immediately dismissing the protest on McCree's tongue. “But it's nothing my big, strong cowboy can't handle, right?"

She winks at him, laughs, and strokes his face affectionately. The ruffling of his beard sends tingles through McCree’s body. He shivers and Sombra frowns. “Seriously, though. You okay?”

McCree nods, laughing breathlessly, and pulls her close. “Of course,” he says. He kisses her, slow and chaste, but he soon angles his head to try to deepen the kiss. Just as he does, Sombra pulls away with a laugh.

“Good,” she says. “‘Cause I'm not done with you yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and would like to see more, have a chat, or find out how to support me, please check out my twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r) or follow my writing blog [@intim3ate](https://intim3ate.tumblr.com), where I post progress, WIPs, and take requests.
> 
> If you would like to find out how to support me, I have a handy list of links right [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1122210346939244544). Please check it out! I wouldn't be able to do this without people like you supporting me. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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